


It was just the two of us

by sinking_m



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Clueless dating, Honestly Jim what are you doing?, Jim Being an Idiot, M/M, Matchmaking, Oblivious Jim, Pining, Pining Spock, Weird Terran practices, clueless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 23:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinking_m/pseuds/sinking_m
Summary: And again, everyone knows except for Jim.





	It was just the two of us

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language. Sorry if it gets strange sometimes. Hope it's still readable. I'd be happy to correct mistakes if you point them out.

“It’s my duty as a friend to set Spock up with Nyota,” Jim decides. “Spock is a private kind of guy. But it’s clear he has—a thing for her. And they’d make a great couple. They enjoy each other’s company. They have common interests. Spock often has this half-smile when he’s talking to her”. Jim ignores a strange unpleasant feeling in his stomach, he’s probably eaten something wrong in the mess hall. Come to think of it, the salad did look suspicious. Well, truth be told, all salads look suspiciously unappetizing to him, but that one even more so. 

Anyway, all Jim needs to do is figure out a plan how to make Spock and Uhura see that they are perfect for each other. It’s fortunate that Jim has finished the whole lot of reports, and there is no urgent business to attend to at the moment. They’re cruising to their shore leave destination. He has a great opportunity help his friends out. Having made up his mind to start the very next day, he falls asleep. All night he dreams of Spock and Nyota playing the Vulcan lute while he’s struggling to get any sound out of the lute in his hands.

He wakes up to the shrill of his alarm, not even one bit rested. But he feels a boost of energy as soon as he remembers his plan. He’s got a busy day ahead. 

Having gone through the morning routine, Jim rushes to the mess hall. Spock is already there, eating his oatmeal. Jim wishes he could look this royal scraping up porridge from the bowl. Jim hesitates for a moment, but programs oatmeal for himself as well. Last time when Bones caught him smuggling some bacon and scrambled eggs to his table, he received such an impressive dressing-down that for now he’s keeping away from jim-do-you-really-want-to-have-a-heart-attack-soon stuff.

Jim picks up his tray and takes a seat opposite Spock. Spock looks up, and Jim grins, unable to bring down his excitement. Jim is almost sure that Spock’s lips curl upwards a little. 

Seems like a good time to set his plan in motion. 

“So—We haven’t played chess for a while. Have you been busy lately?”

A small crease appears between Spock’s brows.

“My workload has not increased. Would you like to have a chess match at nineteen hundred today?”

“That’d be fine, yes. But don’t you have any plans with Nyota?” Jim tries to steer the conversation into the chosen direction. “You spend much time with her. How’s it going?”

“I have been assisting Nyota with her project. She intends to correct Universal Translator paradigms. However, we do not have any arrangements for the evening.”

“Excellent! If you can fix some bugs, it’ll really help us.” A shudder goes through Jim’s body when he remembers the previous diplomatic dinner. He almost got his brain roasted, trying to decipher what the dignitary was saying to him. “I think it’s great that you’ve been working closely together. Nyota’s so passionate—and plain brilliant. You make a fantastic team.”

Spock looks vaguely bothered.

“Indeed,” he says dryly and gets up, taking his tray. “I will see you on the bridge, Captain.”

“Maybe I’ve come on too strong,” Jim thinks perplexed by Spock’s brush-off.

When Jim arrives at the bridge, Spock looks at him and then immediately glances at Uhura. Jim cheers inside. Probably, their conversation has given Spock food for thought. 

After the shift Jim heads for the mess hall to grab a quick dinner with Bones. He has a sneaking suspicion that for Bones it’s not only a social occasion, but also a chance to monitor what and how he eats.

“Bones, do you think there’s something going on between Spock and Nyota?” Jim asks as soon as they sit at the table.

Bones rolls his eyes.

“Don’t worry, kid. There’s no competition.”

“What?” Jim runs his hand through his hair reflectively. “I mean, Uhura is probably the closest person to Spock on the ship. So, I thought—why don’t we hook them up?”

The pained expression crosses his friend’s face.

“You’re raving mad. Keep me out of your silly schemes.”

“Don’t underestimate my silly schemes. They’ll manage to put a smile on Spock’s face.”

“Oh, of that, I have no doubt,” Bones mutters.

Jim just shrugs his shoulders. Sometimes he understands Spock, humans are illogical.

The minute he enters his quarters, there is a knock on the bathroom door. 

Fuck, he’s completely forgotten about the chess match. He hurriedly checks time, he’s only five minutes late. Thanks for small mercies.

Jim pushes the button, and the door slides away, revealing one tense-looking Vulcan. Spock quickly scans the room, as if expecting to see another visitor. He seems appeased after his inspection. His eyes soften, and the set of his jaw loses its uncompromising rigidity.

“Spock, please come in. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.” He steps away, letting Spock enter.

“It was not a hardship, Jim.”

Spock synthesizes their beverages in the replicator and tampers with the climate controls, while Jim’s setting the board. They worked out their routine a while ago. Having taken their seats at the table, they start a game. Jim watches Spock’s calm face, hears a familiar lulling rumble of the Enterprise and observes a chessboard with all its possibilities. Jim realizes how greatly he’s missed their matches. 

For some time, they play in a peaceful silence. 

Many moves later, Spock announces a ‘checkmate’.

“Care for another game?” Jim smiles at Spock.

“You must be fatigued. Would you be amenable to have a rematch tomorrow at the same time?”

“Sure.”

Spock gets up and goes to the door only to hesitate at the threshold. A shadow passes across his face.

“Jim, I have an inquiry of a personal nature. Do you—Are you interested in pursuing a romantic relationship with Nyota?”

“Relationship with Nyota?” Jim parrots dumbly.

Spock folds his hands behind his back and continues.

“I am aware of the human practice to present a potential lover to friends before establishing a relationship. I believe it is done to seek their approval in advance. Your behavior today complies with this tradition. Have you been trying to acquire my approval?”

Jim thinks that he must be ‘fatigued’, indeed, because his mind is completely blank. What—Where did Spock get this ridiculous idea?

Meanwhile Spock looks a bit freaked out in his Vulcan way by no response. He begins to talk faster, almost rambling.

“I have no objections. If your romantic involvement can bring you contentment, the right course of action is to approach Nyota. Your affection for her—”

This gets Jim out of his stupor.

“I feel only friendship for Nyota. She’s gorgeous, and once I could probably—” Jim stops himself before fucking everything up. “We’re good friends. And we’re more than comfortable with this.”

Spock lets his hands fall to his sides.

“I thought that—Aren’t you interested in ‘pursuing a relationship with Nyota yourself’? You seem to be very chummy.” 

Why does he hear jealousy in his own voice?

“I do not have any intention to establish a relationship with her.”

Does he imagine it or has Spock accentuated the last word? Does it mean that Spock’s interested in someone else? How could he have missed it? It’s someone from the Sciences division, isn’t it? 

Jim thinks that he needs a new plan. Urgently. Right like now. He’s wasted enough time already.

Spock’s voice interrupts his thoughts. 

“I am going to retire to my quarters. Good night, Jim.”

“Good night, Spock. See you tomorrow on the bridge.”

The door slides silently into place. 

***

Next morning, in the mess hall, Jim is contemplating all the ways a burger is bad for him, trying to resist the ever-present temptation, when Spock takes a seat opposite him and puts down his tray. He notices Nyota glancing their way from the replicator.

“Good morning, Jim.”

“G’morning, Spock.”

“May I talk to you about a delicate matter?” Spock shifts in his seat. He’s clearly uncomfortable.

“Sure. Go ahead.” Jim wonders if it’s about Scotty manufacturing moonshine again. 

“Nyota has introduced me to such a curious human notion as ‘a wingman’.”

“Wow. That’s something interesting,” Jim thinks. “Is it possible that he doesn’t even need a master plan?” For some reason, he is saddened.

“I plan to arrange a dinner for a special person on Galtes tonight. Could you accompany me?

“No problem. I’ll be the best wingman you could wish for.” Jim smiles resolutely. “Who’s the lucky one?”

Spock ducks his head and brings a cup of tea to his lips.

“Don’t be so mysterious. Spill the beans, Spock. I’m your wingman.” 

He starts at the scarping sound of the tray being pushed along the table.

“Good morning!” Nyota gives them a cheeky smile. “Is it okay if I join you?”

“Totally fine.” Jim assures her hastily, trying to squish down his curiosity about Spock’s date.

Unsurprisingly, the topic doesn’t come up during the meal again. Jim feels a weird mix of relief and disappointment. 

Spock brings the matter up when the shift is over and they’re in turbolift, heading to their quarters. 

“Jim, regarding our arrangement, may I collect you at nineteen thirty?” Jim wonders how unobservant people must be to call Spock emotionless. Who could miss the glimmer of hope in his eyes? This person must be really special to Spock. And that’s—that’s fantastic.”

Jim smiles as happily as he can.

“Yes, fine. But don’t you need to pick up your date? I could beam down by myself and meet you at a restaurant. Whaddaya think?”

“Do not concern yourself about this matter. Everything has been settled. It would be optimal if I ‘picked you up’ from your quarters.” Spock’s cheekbones are now tinged with green.

“Ookay—right.” Jim’s a bit perplexed. But he’s sure that Spock knows what he’s doing. Quite sure at least. Alright, Jim is sure to some extent.

Spock enters his quarters, and Jim staggers into his, engrossed with thoughts about Spock’s love life. He tries to shake off these thoughts, they’re counter-productive. It’s better to think about something practical. Like clothes to wear. Should be something nice, but not too nice, as it’s not about him. Jim doesn’t feel happy about it. He thinks it’s because he detests being on the periphery. Having considered some options, he chooses a plain blue shirt and black slacks. Yes, nice, but not too nice.

Spock chimes the front door right on time. Jim brushes off his slacks nervously, glances in the mirror and orders the door to open. The casual greeting gets stuck in his throat at the sight of Spock. Spock looks—he looks stunning. Jim has always known that Spock is attractive, but it’s been an abstract knowledge before. This moment has bestowed a myriad of connotations upon this knowledge. 

Spock’s wearing a black V-neck jumper and black pants. The jumper looks really soft and outlines the muscles just fine. The pants seem to be tight in all the right places. And the color suits Spock well. It brings out his dark brown eyes and precise lines of his face.

Someone must have helped Spock with his outfit. He looks like a walking wet dream. Except he’s not naked and not doing anything remotely sexual. 

“That’s too much. Snap out of it, Jim. Stop ogling your friend.” Jim clears his throat.

“Hey, Spock. You look great.”

“I am gratified that you find my appearance pleasing.” 

Jim blinks owlishly.

“Uh—Right. We should probably head out if we don’t want to be late.”

They arrive at the transporter room and beam down. Absorbed in the conversation, Jim is surprised when Spock says that they’ve reached their destination. Was it really a fifteen-minute walk? It doesn’t feel like it.

The host shows them to a cozy semi-circular booth. 

Jim looks around. The restaurant is really nice. The walls are covered with some climbing plants. Jim bets Spock knows their names. The lamps above each table make the atmosphere intimate—the restaurant looks like an ocean of semi-darkness with some islands amid it. It’s actually pretty romantic. 

Jim expected something more casual. He starts to think that he’ll be a third wheel. Perhaps, it’s not too late to leave. He feels a strange burning chest pain. 

He glances at Spock, and their eyes meet. Spock seems to be observing him with both nervousness and contentment. Poor guy, obviously, needs his support. Jim smiles reassuringly.

“It’s a great place. Your date will like it.” 

Spock glances sideways.

“I have to excuse myself for a minute. I need to make a phone call.”

“No problem, go ahead. I’ll have a look at the menu.”

Spock returns in a couple of minutes. 

“Jim, there will be only two of us tonight.” 

Oh fuck. Has Spock been stood up? Who was stupid enough to do that? Spock is brilliant, and funny, and beautiful, and caring. There must have been a worthy reason for this.

Jim shakes his head.

“Well, it’s their loss. Do you want to stay or get back to the ship?”

“If you do not mind I suggest we should stay and have dinner together.”

“Perfect! Let’s have dinner.”

Apparently, Spock has prepared thoroughly for the date. Without even glancing at the menu, he recommends a local dish and a beverage, and Jim happily agrees. The main course looks unusual, but when Jim tries it, he can’t help a small moan of pleasure. The drink, brought in high metal glasses, is delicious as well, fruity and refreshing. 

“The food is amazing! And the atmosphere—” Jim casts a glance around. He feels relaxed and quietly happy. “You are really good at dating stuff.” Jim realizes what he’s said. “I mean your date would really love this”. Now he’s making everything even worse.

But Spock doesn’t seem perturbed by his clumsiness.

“Does it mean that you would rely on my expertise in the future? I believe I know a number of establishments that you might enjoy.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jim gets all warm inside. He likes the implication, even though it’s probably accidental.

Spock’s hand twitches on the table as if he was going to move it closer. “That is most fortunate. I will proceed with the necessary arrangements.”

Changing the topic, Jim asks Spock whether he’s going to the Christmas party. They’ll have to celebrate it onboard, but that doesn’t mean they can’t have some fun, right? The crew have started making plans for it, and Jim really hopes Spock will take part as well. To his delight, Spock says that yes, it’s been his intention and tells him how his mother used to engage Sarek and him in Terran Christmas traditions. Jim shares his memories about Christmas in Riverside.

Time flies by, and when they pay, it’s already very late.

They are walking to the beam up point, and Jim keeps sneaking glances at Spock. Twilight makes him look both achingly familiar in some ways and foreign in others. Jim feels like he’s missing something—missing something important.

He’s confused by how aware he is of Spock’s body heat when they’re standing side by side ready to beam up. 

At the doors to their quarters Jim turns to face Spock.

“It was a great evening even though—well, you know—It was just the two of us.”

“Jim. I—” Spock’s expression is so earnest, so helpless. He struggles to find the words, but seems unable to do it. 

Jim wonders what he was going to say. He’s really enjoyed his evening with Spock. He hopes they could do something like this more often.

“Do you care for a chess game tomorrow?” Jim asks.

“That would be most welcome.” Spock’s shoulders relax a bit. “Would you be amenable to a match in my quarters?”

“Yeah. Okay.” Jim pats Spock’s arm. The jumper is as soft as he’s imagined.

Spock glances at Jim’s door and takes a step back.

“Good night, Jim.”

“G’night, Spock.”

***

Next day Jim catches Nyota throwing curious glances Spock’s way. Is she interested in the success of the date? Doesn’t she know that the date hasn’t shown up? Or maybe she’s curious, since something seems to be off about Spock’s behavior.

He strikes Jim as especially concentrated and detached today. Painfully so. Is he upset because of yesterday?

Jim expects to find out tonight, during the chess match. When the shift ends, he goes to the gym and works out for an hour. Then, he gets to his quarters, takes a sonic shower and changes into casual clothes. This routine helps him cope with inexplicable anxiety he’s been feeling since the end of the shift.

At half past seven Jim puts aside the PADD he’s been working on and makes his way to the bathroom door. He knocks and hears a calm ‘Come in’. 

On entering, Jim notices the abundance of candles all around the room, and the room smells of spices and sandalwood. Jim assumes that Spock has been meditating before his arrival. 

“Would you like your usual choice of a beverage or would you prefer a glass of wine?” Spock hesitates for a moment. “I could also provide you with a glass of Romulan ale.”

Jim looks up at him in surprise. “Usual would be just fine.”

Spock gives him a cup of tea, and Jim makes an opening move.

During the game, Jim is becoming more and more certain that Spock’s concerned about something. His mind is not on the game. Jim is going to checkmate him in record time. Besides, Spock’s fingers brushed over his when he reached out to take the piece. Twice. And Jim remembers that finger touching was a big no-no for Vulcans. That’s all quite worrying.

“Checkmate,” Jim says. Spock doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Spock, you seem very pensive today. Is something wrong? Is it about the date?” Jim hurries to assure his friend, “It’ll all work out. We’ll find someone who’s right for you. You’ll see.”

Spock gives him a long stare as if he can’t believe his own ears. 

“Jim, you are the most maddening individual I have ever met. How is it possible that you have not understood yet? I do not need ‘someone’. I believe I have already found a person who is right for me.” Spock stands up and starts pacing the room.

Jim blinks. And blinks again. 

“Wha—Are you talking about your yesterday’s—”

Spock interrupts with an annoyed half-growl.

“It is you.” Spock exhales slowly. “There is no one else. You are right for me.”

Jim opens his mouth. Closes it.

Spock’s ears turn green. He’s standing perfectly still now, with his hands clutched at the back.

“I am not certain whether you can—Whether you reciprocate. Your reactions have been most confusing.” Spock shifts his eyes from Jim to the chessboard, not really seeing it.

Now Jim realizes what has been missing.

He springs to his feet, grabs Spock’s shoulders and kisses him. It’s awkward, desperate—and absolutely amazing. Spock’s hands brush his cheeks tenderly and travel further to cup his nape. He tilts his head and deepens the kiss. Jim feels that he could burst with happiness right now. 

He smiles against Spock’s lips. 

How could he have been so blind?


End file.
